Atone
by DoodlingPlume
Summary: Clive is willing to atone for his crimes at the cost of his sanity and the death of someone. If London can't be brought into justice, it will be damned to watch itself fall again.
1. Prologue

Summary: Clive is willing to atone for his crimes at the cost of his sanity and the death of someone. If London can't be brought into justice, it will be damned to watch itself fall again.

* * *

Redemption.

There are many ways to redeem something. A mistake, a sin, a _crime_.

In my case, it's different. An all consuming madness that gripped me to destroy half of London with a giant moving fortress.

_Registered deaths: 167._

_Registered disappearances: 1884._

_Registered Injuries:3356._

Personally, I believe that those numbers are much larger. There is always the luxury of the doubt.

But not everybody has them.

I am Clive, the madman who tried to change a country.

The psychopath who abducted the prime minister.

The sadistic killer that tricked everybody.

The one who will bring justice in this rotten society.

* * *

A/N: It's short, but it's only the start. I'm thinking to make it a two, three shot, depending on the reviews that it may receive.

I know that Clive was "saved" by the professor regarding his madness, but I don't think that he will let go of the bitterness of his nearly achieved revenge that easily.

I had a late discovery of Professor Layton, and just yesterday I finished the Unwound Future. I just cried a lot, and I was disappointed that the catalyst of such events was just... left in the power again. So I had this idea, that I had to post.

Please leave a review. That will make my day.


	2. Chapter 1

It has been 5 years and 9 months since my imprisonment. I was only 19 back then, a legal age to be in prison.

My condemn was one of 4 years and 6 months, since the jury declared me 'mentally unstable', justifying my deeds.

It was during my third transfer when things got worse.

* * *

_Bill Hawks glanced at the city of London from his penthouse. It was only 9 o'clock, and the city was wide awake. Dim lights illuminated the houses, and he could imagine the loud chatter in the streets, and the lively movement within the families._

_He breathed a sigh of contempt, until his peaceful break was interrupted by a knock, followed by his wife. _

"_Bill. It's time." _

"_It has been 4 years already? Time surely flies." A chuckle.  
_

"_Bill. Now it's not the time to joke around! He will be released in a month! Do you want that madman in the streets again?"_

_He sighed, and turned around to glance the city again, smirking._

"_Don't fret my dear. I have everything under control now."_

_He poured two glasses of champagne handing one of them to his wife. Holding the glass high, he breathed._

"_For justice!"_

_She only grinned in return._

* * *

2 weeks before my release, I was informed that the date has been changed. Bill Hawks presented an objection, questioning my sanity, accentuating that his family might be threatened again and that London might have a repeat of the tragedy that claimed more than 200 lives.

At first, the court dismissed that objection, claiming that the justice was served, but after Bill Hawks held a press conference demanding security in the streets and protection for the families of London, the court flipped.

I was sentenced to be imprisoned for 2 more years, for security reasons.

6 ½ years, deprived of freedom and humanity changed me. Better or for the worse, I do not know. I'm not a judge of myself.

I started developing a façade that masked my real self. An apathetic, calm-collected attitude was raised as a barrier to protect my frail, weak, dependent interior. I may seem aloof for some people, and cold for the others, and I am content at those impressions. At the asylum, I was able to fool those analysts. Now, I'll be able to trick the society once more. I tried to keep my promise with the professor, but I'm afraid I'll have to delay that promise. But I won't break it.

It cost me the whole fortune of my adoptive mother and my patience to plan the mobile fortress. Now, with time to spare, I have enough to mastermind a new scheme. I won't make the same mistakes twice.

London shall watch, but the only one who will pay the price is going to be my tormentor.

Bill Hawks.

A/N: Can you imagine Bill hawks doing that? Because I can. I'm planning to murder him with the most gruesome death, or torture him. Whichever is fine.

If you don't like my writing style, you can always turn back. I like mine, but if you think it's too obscure, I'll try changing it, but the transformation is not overnight. Sorry.

I forgot to add the disclaimer in the prologue, so here it is:

I do not own Professor Layton or any of the characters or items mentioned. Level-5 owns them, not me.

Leave a review. Anonymous comments are enabled, so anyone can leave a piece of his/her opinion.

Thank you Redsparrow3 for taking your time and reviewing. It's greatly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 2

I vaguely remember how I got here. After all those years, I finally got released, but now, with no relatives, and no money left, it was going to be hard for me to get used to the normal pace of life.

What life, really?

The only patches in my memory about my childhood were filled with fire, my foster mother and my perpetual desire for revenge.

_Soon, I am going to be able to smile again._

A hollow laughter escaped my lips. Yes. It would be good to be able to do _that_.

During the imprisonment, I was the target of several biases. There are 'rights' for every criminal, but that doesn't mean that every single one of them are kept.

I wasn't even allowed to have pencils or paper, due to my mental _conditions._

My only sanctuary was the garden. After some time, I was granted the pleasure of learning gardening skills, without using sharp tools.

It was during those moments that I meticulously planned, schemed, and masterminded.

_As _she _said, look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't._

With the little cash that was given to me, I was able to rent a two-star motel, and buy necessary supplies.

_There is no time to waste._

I stepped out of the motel, and sprinted.

* * *

Bill Hawks was a very busy man.

He couldn't let the normal social pressure get to him. He was disciplined, educated, and raised like a proper man.

He worked for a better society, constantly infected by criminals. He couldn't admit how much he was disgusted at their appalling behavior. They never thought about others, only trapped within their narrow mind-frame. They only thought about themselves, stretching their dirt-stained fingers toward others, instead of thinking of getting the job done in the "clean" way.

Bill still remembered the day he was abducted. Thankfully, god indeed blessed those with kind souls, and the justice prevailed.

Until now.

That madman got released, endangering the society once more, and nobody knew what happened to that inhuman criminal.

He was even more baffled at how the current justice system worked. For such a dangerous man that dared to abduct the prime minister, he was sentenced only 4 years. He had to rearrange some things to get that lunatic caged again.

Criminals like him were just _beasts._

But, with the current society like this, there was nothing one could do. He could only command the way civilization slowly progressed. Some sacrifices were necessary for the evolution of mankind.

He parked his Aston Martin, and entered his house, absentmindedly throwing his keys into his coat pocket.

When he entered his house, he was greeted by the sight of his wife closing the door behind her.

"Dear, did you go out?"

"No, I just payed a technician that claimed to be hired from you."

_Fear._

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"I did not do such a thing."

A small gasp escaped the mouth of Caroline, and exclaimed.

"But I let him in your study! Who knows what he did inside! Oh, I'm sorry my dear, I was foolish and-!"

He rushed outside, trying to squint his eyes to get a better view in the dark, but there was nobody. Only the familiar London sight greeted him.

Storming into his house, he rushed upstairs, towards the studies, his heart beating wildly in his chest, while his wife started calling the police.

He checked everywhere, yet he found nothing.

When he calmed down, and tried to go downstairs to soothe Caroline's fears, he noticed his desk drawers being slightly ajar.

With trembling fingers, he opened it.

"I found you."

* * *

Sorry for the cliffhanger there. I didn't like this chapter very much, and I had to re-write it many times. I'm still not very happy with it.

I tried to get a glimpse at Bill Hawks's personality, but I'm not so sure about him. I don't like him, so my personification is going to be... biased. I hate him.

And I got the perfect torture for him. Is going to be violent, sadistic and cruel. Really violent. So, I wouldn't advise those who doesn't like gore to read the next chapter that I'm going to update soon.

Did anyone notice the small quote from Lady macbeth there? I really like that play of Shakespeare. It shows the... crude side of humas.

Thank you KeepSmilingOn329, Redsparrow3 and Nisa-chan1713 for reviewing.

KeepSmilingOn329: Thank you very much. I'm happy to receive such review about this story. I hope you will continue liking it.

Redsparrow3: Thank you for reviewing. I hate him very much as well. I think that you might enjoy the cruel ending planned for him next chapter.

Nisa-chan1713: Thank you for taking your time to review. Yes, I'll make him suffer a similar torture, but much more faster and brutal. It only ends badly for Bill hawks.


	4. Chapter 3

A week passed since the trespassing incident. Caroline was worried, but she recovered her bombastic behavior, and Bill Hawks continued his life, duplicating the security system in his house.

But the suspense was gradually morphing into a blight that stubbornly refused to dissipate.

Since the police couldn't find any evidence of the burglar being the same madman, the investigation was discontinued. The prime minister tried everything, without avail.

* * *

Bill Hawks couldn't take it anymore. Despite his wife's warnings, he needed to go out and get some fresh air. His neck ached,and his hands were filled with sweat.

After some consideration, he neatly tucked some of the documents in his folder,and stood up, walking out of his house, leaving behind the worried protests of his wife.

The zephyr of the late afternoon was a good change of pace, and with a contempt smile, he watched the hurried pace of others with hidden mirth.

'_Ah, the hard-working men still try their best to improve our city!'_

He continued walking, until he reached the city center, and mindlessly entered to the first drinking place he found. He knew that it was still early, but he needed to loosen up. _The black dove._

He didn't like that name.

* * *

After some swigs of the strongest alcoholic drink, he noticed that he had company.

"Bad day?"

He just nodded, too tired to answer.

"Here, my treat."

The stranger poured another cup of the contents in the alcoholic bottle. He took a swig, without noticing that half of it dripped from his mouth.

"Where are my manners? I am Klaus Culver. I am a journalist."

The stranger stretched his hand, and Bill Hawks sloppily shook it, and slumped in his chair once again, not caring in the least who was the unwelcomed individual.

They remained silent for a moment, until the man leaned closer, almost sinisterly snarling.

"Life is a funny thing. I met once a prime minister that was corrupted and rotten to the deepest flesh of his heart. He had no compassion, nor feelings. He only cared of his position. He was a _murderer._"

When he obtained no response from his collapsed companion, he smiled pleasantly and called the waiter. Paying the bill, he headed outside, apologizing for his companions' repulsive behaviour.

* * *

I was disgusted by the sight of Bill Hawks. But I couldn't let my chance slip by.

The goddesses were helping me, and I obliged. Ever since entering into his house at the pretense of being a technician, I couldn't find a new way to approach him.

_Kill the pig! Cut his throat! Kill the pig! Bash him in!_

I was giddy with glee and I couldn't help but to let the grin break into my face. Whistling, I carried the slumped body of the soon _former _minister of this land.

Life was not fair.

_But soon it will be._

Life was an enigma.

_And death is a paradox._

I hurried my pace, to the rendezvous point, not caring anymore if Bill Hawks lost a leg or an eye.

After all, only the grand _finale _waited. I could already feel the ghosts and spirits of the dead chanting, merrily dancing around the Minister, aware that a new soul would soon join them in the underworld.

_Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!_

* * *

Bill Hawks opened his bleary eyes when the sound of falling raindrops resonated through the room. He squinted in the darkness, trying to see the morning light with no avail.

He was bound.

The prime minister struggled, wrestled and fought, but he couldn't move.

He tried crawling across the floor, until he hit his head with the ceiling. He tried feeling around, and he realized that he was in an exact square made of cement.

One of the walls were still damp, showing that was closed a little ago, and the whole "box" was full of minuscule holes, that let the air in, as well as the drops of water. No light was filtered through, and a sickeningly saccharine smell inundated the place.

Until he realized that he was covered in ooze that radiated the odour.

Bill had to retain the remaining dignity to not scream in disgust, when he heard crackling of a speaker, surely coming from the outside of the box.

"_I am sorry that it had to come this way, but none of this would happen if YOU weren't here in the first place!"_

Bill could swear that the voice was from the beast that had abducted him 6 years ago.

"_Any last words for the world?"_

"Wait-Wha-? Th-This is PREPOSTEROUS! Unhandme at once!"

"_It's too late now. Too bad. Enjoy! After all, you won't be leaving anytime SOON. I'll tell your regards to your family, if you have one, that is."_

"Wait-!"

The speaker went mute. There was an eerie silence heavy in the room.

Bill Hawks glanced at his feet anticipating for something, and discovered that several toenails were missing. blood red flesh mingled with the stale air, and he had to bite his lips to not scream in horror. He couldn't feel the pain since the ropes that tied his feet cut the blood circulation, but it was an appalling sight.

That was until he discovered a crimson ant curiously skidding on his knee. Bill crushed the ant, disgusted and shocked.

He could hear faint snipping sounds from afar.

_Snip,snip,snip.  
_

The tired and bound minister thought that the police and the ambulance were cutting through the set of traps that the madman may have laid across the place, and rejoiced.

Until he discovered that the holes in the concrete box he wan in was bleeding.

Trails of red poured from the outside, slowly filling up the concrete box, and Bill scrammed to the farthest point, trying to avoid the sloshing pool.

But they weren't liquid. They had eyes and feet, and were slowly coming to him.

He tried to crawl and escape from the red army, and every time his feet touched the concrete ground, his naked toes left a trail of blood.

They were following him.

_Snip,snip,snip._

They were all over him.

_Snip,snip,snip._

He screamed in pain every time a shearing jaw closed down on him.

He wriggled every time a new flesh was torn apart.

He agonized every time sound of jaws echoed throughout the small box.

* * *

A.N: Sorry for the late update. I won't say excuses, because they are what they are: excuses.

I had to tone down the level of violence in this level to keep going in T. (Is this even considered T?) But then, the original one was much darker than this one. My little sister told me to hold back since she, unlike me, had some sympathy on Bill.

Do you like it? I think I do. (I still prefer the original version better though.) This site kept messing with the line brakes. I don't know what wrong, so I had to continue fixing it.

And yes, there are some of Lord of the flies quotes.

Those were Dorylus ants. They are carnivore, (I did a research, but there are no records of them eating humans, but bear with me. I know that they are used as emergency stitches in case of wounds. You have the ant bite down on you in both sides of the open wound, and tear the body off its head. They will remain for days, so your wound can naturally heal meanwhile.)

And Klaus is the Japanese version of Clive's name and Culver means Dove in Old English. I had to give him a false name, since he can't run around with his famous crime tag in his name.

And here is the last chapter. Bill Hawks gets what he deserves. Maybe I'll post an epilogue, maybe not.

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing this chapter, and I thank aquamelon, Redsparrow3 and Ryoko no Kimi for reviewing.

Aquamelon: Thank you for taking your time and reviewing. I don't think I deserve your praise. I'm glad that you liked it.

Redsparrow3: Thank you for reviewing in every chapter until now. I'm really happy. Thank you.

Ryoko no Kimi: I'm glad that you liked this fic. Thank you very much, and I hope you liked it.


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